


99 Problems

by KeepsakeKey



Series: We're All A Little Fucked Up [2]
Category: The Avengers (2012)
Genre: Male Friendship, PTSD, Unnecessary character details, whumpage
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-09-13
Updated: 2012-09-13
Packaged: 2017-11-14 03:44:44
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,561
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/510964
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/KeepsakeKey/pseuds/KeepsakeKey
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Tony Stark has an entire range of personal issues, and some are easier to overcome than others. Unfortunately for him, it seems that a very specific issue isn't just going to be magically fixed any time soon.</p>
            </blockquote>





	99 Problems

**Author's Note:**

> This was originally intended to be an actual Ironhawk fanfiction, but upon writing it I realized that I didn't want to just have them jump into anything. If well received and I have the incentive, then I will be writing another chapter to this. But for now, this is all.  
> My beta for this story was [xochantelly](http://xochantelly.tumblr.com/).

It should come to no surprise to anyone that Tony Stark has issues. Sure, he's been working through many of them, and solved even more, even though that has mostly only been happening since he built the suit.

Some problems are just things that annoy him, such as the fact that SHIELD doesn't trust him enough to tie his own shoes. Some problems are just there to toy with his emotions, such as the fact that Pepper is no longer there to assist him with tying his shoes. 

There are problems that make other people question him, for example that a very large portion of the world still thinks that he's going to go batshit and destroy the earth. There are problems that make him question himself, for example that quite a few SHIELD agents compare him to his father and don't like what they see.

A few problems he's been working on, upgrading the suit and the other Avengers' gear being just a handful of them.

And there are some problems that he doesn't ever, ever, think he'll fully get passed.

When Tony got back from Afghanistan after being held captive for three months, a large range of terms got thrown at him from every corner: sick, crazy, pitiful, demented, traitorous, turned, and patriotic only being a few.

The man had put it all out of his mind, because he had never cared what people thought of him, only what he thought of himself. After all, he knew that he was fine, that he had gotten out of that cave alive against all odds. A few of the adjectives he even had a laugh at.

But, as it turns out, even the great Tony Stark is able to fall victim to post traumatic stress disorder. 

When he was poked and prodded, he had rolled his eyes and made fun of the doctors. When the man first heard of the words, he had snorted and asked for a drink. 

Post traumatic stress disorder.

They say that it takes months for the signs to appear, sometimes more. It depends on the person, they told him, and there's varying degrees. Not everyone has all the same symptoms, not everyone shows them at the same time.

A few months passed and Tony continued on, building his suits and destroying the weapons he had created in the first place. A year had passed and he started having nightmares, but he shrugged them off and continued saving people. The time between the nightmares actually got longer until he joined up with SHIELD to become one of the Avengers.

Maybe it was the fact that he was now in danger more often, or that he was making weapons again, but whatever the reason his nightmares crept back on him, unbidden.

After a couple of months, the nightmares were joined by his entire body freezing at the most inopportune moments: being too close to an explosion, falling into water, the sound of a gun being cocked. Two of three of these things happened much too often for his liking, but he was mostly able to hide it from the rest of the team. He usually only froze for a moment, if at all, and luckily he almost always fought alone.

Tony's first actual flashback, while awake, hit him when he was in the shower one morning, just having come up from working in the lab all night. He was surrounded by glass one moment, and the next he was back in the cave, his head being pushed down under the water. 

Dimly, he was aware of something shattering, and he backed up against a wall before sliding down to the ground. There was gunfire everywhere, and his breath hitched in his chest. Part of him told him he needed to be fighting, or to run away from the battle, but his body wouldn't let him.

He came to with a slap to the face, and he gasped, his eyes opening to meet with a pair of blue-green ones. There were words being spoken, but for the life of him he couldn't grasp onto them long enough to actually register what was being said. He was still staring into the eyes in front of him when it clicked in his mind who he was with.

"Barton," he mumbled, almost to himself.

And just like that, he could suddenly hear everything again. He flinched when his skin realized the water from the shower head was cold, and Clint's hands moved away from his shoulders long enough to turn it off.

"Good to have you back, Stark. Thought you went crazy there for a minute; you weren't responding to anything. I'd apologize for the hand print on your face but you obviously needed it. How'd you know it was me, anyway?"

The assassin was obviously rambling, but that was good. It gave Tony's mind something to focus on, something familiar, and it removed some tension from his body. "Your eyes," he answered, then cleared his throat. His voice was too small, too soft. Definitely not the voice of Tony Stark. "Only person I know with eyes like that."

Clint paused but nodded, reaffirming his grip on the sides of Tony's arms and lifting him up. If the fact that the he was naked bothered him, the man didn't show it. "Alright, then. Let's get you dry and out of here. Watch the glass."

At the mention of glass, Tony's gaze dropped down to his broken shower, his eyebrows furrowing. He opened his mouth to ask, but the other got there before him. "I heard the glass break. I was right outside the door to ask about the prototypes, and then Jarvis freaked out."

If that was the case, then Jarvis also probably told Clint what had been going on. He made a mental note to reprimand the AI later, but right now he was exhausted, and cold. 

They shuffled out of the bathroom, Clint mentioning that he'd clean up the mess in the bathroom later, and while Tony pulled on some sweatpants the other man went in search of some bandages for his hand. He was a bit curious as to how he had somehow managed to hit the glass hard enough to shatter it, but he figured he'd just ask to see the recording later.

Clint was bandaging his hand up when Tony finally cleared his throat. He was still a bit shaky, and the flashbacks were still in the back of his mind. "I can do it, you know. Not completely useless," he attempted a joke, but it fell flat as Clint raised his head to meet his eyes, his face serious.

"Why didn't you tell anyone that you were experiencing PTSD?"

"I'm not-"

The assassin sighed, securing the bandages in place before running one of his hands over his face. "I've been in this job for a long time, Tony. Hell, all of us have. If you think you're the only one that's been going through this, you're wrong."

Tony scowled, pulling his wrapped hand out of Clint's as he looked away. "I'm fine, alright? I'm dealing with it."

"Yeah, obviously," the other man snorted. It came out more harsh than was expected, but obviously being gentle with it wasn't the way to go. "You were mumbling about a cave while you were having your attack. This is about Afghanistan, isn't it?" When he didn't get a reply, he continued. "You can't deal with this alone. Even agents have their handlers to help them through things like this. There's medication to help, and therapy..."

Tony's jaw clenched, and he shook his head, keeping his gaze fixed firmly on the wall a few yards from him. "I'm already the weak link. I can't have the others knowing about this. I'll be put off to the side, unneeded..."

He glanced over in time to see Clint's face soften. "Tony, you're not useless." At the scrunched nose he got in return to that statement, he sighed before nodding. "Alright. Then you can talk to me. I already know, so what could it hurt?"

Tony finally turned his head back to the assassin, blinking. "What?"

"I'll be your handler. When you have an attack, you can talk to me. Relay what happened. It won't fix it right away, but it'll help over time."

There was a few moments of silence as he thought it over. He had been keeping it to himself in fear that he would be sidelined, but Clint had a point: he already knew. "Just between you and I?"

"Just between us. Promise."

Tony let out a rush of air he hadn't even noticed he'd been holding, then nodded his head in acceptance. "Alright."

Clint finally cracked a smile, but he stood up off of the bed. "First session is now. You need to tell me what happened in the bathroom." 

Tony followed the assassin with his eyes as the man turned the light off in the bathroom and walked back over to the bed, kicking his shoes off before lying down on the other side.

He returned the smile and lied down, too close to Clint for him to technically be on his side of the bed. After all, it was his bed; he'd get as close as he wanted.

"So I was in Afghanistan for three months..."


End file.
